


Putting him in his place

by KiwiWolf91



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-29
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-02-23 02:28:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2530622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KiwiWolf91/pseuds/KiwiWolf91
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Greenburg is sick of being second fiddle to Jackson and decides to take him down, Stiles notices and really doesn't want to get involved</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my amazing beta Recalcitrant_Slytherin_Slut who really doesn't give herself enough credit!
> 
> The idea for this story came from "What if people became sick of how Jackson treated them and plotted against him" and also I noticed that Jackson never really stands up for himself, in front of Derek, or when Stiles punched him, or Scott made him take Allison to the prom and I thought, what if Jackson was all talk and no action and then this happened. . .
> 
> I have the first 3 chapters written and myself and Recalcitrant have been poking away at ideas for how to conclude it.
> 
> Enjoy! comment and kudos please and thank you:)

It’s funny, because this was the day Stiles (and Scott) had been waiting for, yet now that it was here, Stiles felt sick to his core. Looking back, he could remember the moment it all started to come together, or perhaps more suitable for the occasion, fall apart.

2 weeks ago

 

Stiles slammed his locker door shut, turning away before actually bumping into Greenburg, causing his books to scatter across the ground. In seconds Greenburg had shoved him up against the locker, and why couldn’t he have wolfy powers like Scott? God damnit!

“Greenburg! Let the loser go!” Came a commanding voice from down the hallway. All eyes turned to focus on Greenburg and Stiles, causing the latter’s cheek's to burn red with shame as Jackson swaggered down the hallway.

“I said: let the loser go.” Jackson repeated slowly when Greenburg failed to respond. Greenburg glared at Stiles and muttered something, but finally acquiesced. Jackson threw a glance at Stiles before clipping Greenburg over the head: “He’s just an ADD dork, why even bother?” Jackson scoffed before making an exaggerated effort to look at his designer watch, that sat next to his designer t-shirt, that sat on his designer body “Ha! I’ve wasted 30 seconds of my life that I’m never getting back. If you're all done wasting my valuable time? Later, assholes.”

Stiles boiled with rage as he scrambled to pick up the books from the floor. He felt a deep seated hatred for Jackson Whittemore, but he wasn’t the only one that day. As Jackson walked down the hallway, Greenburg fumed, and suddenly it hit him like a freight train ploughing into a wall at 100 miles an hour: When did Jackson actually get into a fight, or do anything to prove, or for that matter earn, his role as top dog? Never. Jackson just used his looks, his brains, and his charms to build his world. A world that was very much reliant on everyone thinking Jackson was the best. People only liked him because he was the rich pretty boy who succeeded at everything. 

 

Actually, Greenburg thought to himself, did Jackson really have anyone real? Hell, even Greenburg had four or five friends that he could count on if the world was ending. Yet if Beacon Hills High's own Adonis were to meet with an unfortunate accident, and was no longer able to perform to his usual impeccable standards, would be left bereft. Greenburg doubted Lydia would hang off his arm if not for his social status, and even Danny only seemed to hang out with Jackson because he was too nice to say no.

Running down the hallway, he caught Jackson as he was exiting the building, wrapped a friendly arm around him, and flashed him a toothy grin.

“Greenburg, fuck off” Jackson spat, trying to shrug the other boy's shoulder off.

“Hey bro, fancy giving me a lift into town?"

“Um, let me think” Jackson mocked, biting his bottom lip and looking up as if heavily in thought, “hmm, yeah, how about no."

“I think yes is the answer you meant to give” Greenburg murmured darkly, tightening his grip on Jacksons shoulder. The golden boy stopped fully and cocked his head.

“Greenburg, I’m giving you till the count of . .. “

 

Greenburg used the arm he had wrapped around Jackson to spin the blonde to face him, and then stood right up. He scoffed internally because Jackson wasn’t even that tall. He towered over him with ease, and felt a rush as Jackson shrunk under him.

“All I’m asking for man, is one little ride into town, your parents can afford the gas”

Jackson swallowed, trying to act as if he was still in control of the situation, but Greenburg had literally backed him up against the wall, and he began to notice people were looking. He nodded, pushing Greenburg back.

“Yeah, of course dude, no problem, chill aye”

“Good boy” Greenburg mock praised, grinning even bigger at Jackson’s death glare as they stalked over to the Porsche.

**

Stiles first noticed the change in dynamics at lunch a few days later. Allison had joined him and Scott at the lunch table. Then Lydia, his goddess, had sat down next to Allison, followed shortly by Danny, who actually giving Stiles a small smile. Greenburg was the shock though. He sat the end of the table next to Lydia and Danny, and proceeded to eat his lunch.

Small boring talk swept over the table while Stiles tried to scroll though his book to find anything that might help keep Scott alive to see prom night, or at least the end of the week, when Jackson steamed over and stood impatiently next to Greenburg.

Lydia and Danny both stared at Greenburg when he ignored Jackson's cough, causing the lacrosse star to growl out a terse: “Move."

“Sorry dude. I would, but I’m eating my lunch, there’s a seat next to Stiles down there," he answered calmly, not seeing Danny raise his eyebrows at the disobedience

“Greenburg, it wasn’t a question, now move your ass!"

“No” Greenburg looked at Lydia, who seemed both baffled and confused by his defiance “Lydia, do you mind who sits here?" he asked with fake innocence.

“That is Jackson’s spot.” She said coyly, looking up at Jackson who was trying to look like he was still in control of the situation. She flicked her strawberry blonde hair though her fingers and Greenburg wondered how long it would be till she was his.

“I didn’t see a name on it when I sat.” Greenburg shrugged, and Danny poked his arm.

"Come on Greenburg, just move dude”

“Make me, Jackson.” he suggested coyly, before standing up to face Jackson, who glared at him. Greenburg smirked and ran a finger across Jackson's face, flicking off a non-existent hair as Jackson trembled under his touch.

“Well, Jackson?”

Jackson scoffed and rolled his eyes “It’s much nicer outside anyway, you’re welcome to sit with those losers if you want to, I’m going to find some class to enjoy lunch with, you coming Danny?”

“Danny was in the middle of a conversation with the table, maybe he’ll catch up with you later?” Greenburg offered, but he was shocked when Danny stood up.

“I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions”

Jackson smirked, and that wasn’t acceptable, he’d have to work on separating Jackson and Danny, but he could still humiliate the blonde further. As Jackson turned to walk away Greenburg employed the oldest trick in the book, and stuck his foot out causing Jackson to trip and land on top of his lunch.

 

In mock horror, he rushed over with Danny to help Jackson up, his designer clothes covered in cafeteria gloop. Pretending to help wipe it off, he took great joy as he rubbed it deeper into the clothes.

“Get off me!” Jackson shouted, attempting to push both Danny and Greenburg off him. But in his haste to push himself up, he put his left hand on the lunch tray, which slipped under the pressure, sending Jackson back onto his ass.

Greenburg didn’t even try to hide his laughter, it was fucking prefect.

**

Stiles had forgotten his lacrosse gear, mainly because Scott had tried to rip him into tiny pieces during his wolf freak out. As he made his way back to the locker room, he heard a rattling noise. After all the supernatural shit that had gone down, Stiles had learnt to be extra cautious of.... Well, pretty much any suspicious noises.

 

With quiet steps, Stiles slowly made his way into the locker room and poked his head around the lockers before sighing in relief. It was only Greenburg and buddies. . . but they were in Jackson’s locker. Without Jackson. Because that wasn’t creepy or suspicious at all (not to mention an invasion of privacy the golden boy wasn't likely to take kindly to). He looked again and couldn’t understand. They were doing something to Jackson's lacrosse stick, but Stiles just shook his head because no, this had nothing to do with him. He was having enough trouble keeping himself and Scott alive, he didn't need Jackson's petty, power-struggle bullshit too

**

 

The next day wasn’t going much better for Stiles' plan to ignore Jackson and all of his drama, because Mr Harris stormed into the classroom with disgust on his face as he handed out the graded papers. Stiles had got an A- again, because apparently Harris couldn’t comprehend a world where Stiles actually got a mark that matched Lydia or Jackson.  
Mr Harris however loved Jackson, which is why it made no sense that he dumped the paper on his desk without even a glance. Jacksons eyes widened, and he turned to the teachers back.

“Mr Harris, what’s this?”

“I was hoping you could clear that up for me, Mr. Whittemore” Mr. Harris replied coldy, not even turning to face Jackson, “For an exam that makes up 25% of the total grade, I was expecting better from you”

Jackson slumped in his chair and just stared blankly at the exam in front of him. Stiles cursed his curiosity before he leaned over to catch a look at the mark, almost tumbling out of his seat. Jackson had gotten an F. An actual F! This was gold, Jackson was Mr. Prefect, and here he was with a failed midterm. Yet something felt wrong, and he felt clogs in his brain turn as he heard Greenburg chuckle among his friends in the back.

“Get lost you fucker.” Jackson hissed too loudly, snapping Stiles back into reality.

“Detention, both of you” Mr Harris snapped from the back of the room, and, no, Stiles absolutely did not sulk in his chair.

The rest of the school day went pretty par for the course: Scott mooned over Allison, Lydia pretended not to be smart, and Stiles just tried to survive. Which was hard when Greenburg shoved him against a locker again and he pushed back because damn it, a Stilinski doesn’t back down. Greenburg punched him square in the face and dragged him along the floor before dumping him in the rubbish bin. To his utter astonishment, Jackson ran over and pulled him out of the bin, helping to dust off the crap. Stiles pushed the jock away, embarrassed to the max. 

“That’s not cool, Greenburg!" Jackson snapped, and the entourage stood awkwardly to the side as Jackson glared at Greenburg until Danny appeared beside Jackson and they shuffled like sheep over to Danny and Jackson. Greenburg shrugged his shoulders as he plotted, so it was Danny that kept Jackson on top. Somehow he’d have to break up the bond the two shared. Luckily, he figured with Jacksons loud, often unfiltered mouth, it wouldn’t be hard to wedge them apart. Making his way over he bro-hugged Jackson. “Sorry Bro”

Jackson shoved him off and made a show of straightening out his Jacket “Don’t 'bro' me”

“Geez, Sorry Bro” Greenburg smirked, and he could see the tension build in Jackson’s eyes as the crowd went “oooh” at his obvious disobedience, but that freaking Danny put a calming hand on Jackson’s shoulder. 

“Let it go dude, we’ve got lacrosse practice. Save it for the field.” Jackson death glared Danny, which Greenburg found ironic since Danny was the only person who gave half a shit about the stupid jock.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! Thanks again to my amazing beta, you guys have no idea how lucky you that she proof reads this! 
> 
> Once again, if you like this (or even if you don't) leave me a comment, I have a idea and my beta to guide me but I love all and any feedback! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! enjoy

Lacrosse practice was almost prefect. Almost. Stiles desperately wished he could enjoy Jackson’s fall from grace during the game, but something kept bothering him. Something just didn’t add up. Sure since Scott got the bite, Jackson had become the second best player rather than the star, but tonight it was like Jackson had lost all his spark.

The analytical side of Stiles actually knew what happen. He’d watched as Jackson struggled with his lacrosse stick – which he knew had something to do with Greenburg- and as Jackson got more frustrated with his sudden short-comings, he lost more control, and the more he lost control, the worse he got 'til Coach benched him in favor of Stiles.

The asshole shoulder slammed him as he walked onto the field, causing Stiles to raise his hands in mock surrender: “Hey, I’m not the one who sucks so hard, jackass!”

Jackson just glared at him as he made his way to the bench. Perhaps if Stiles hadn’t been taking so much joy in watching him try to scoot as far away from the other benchwarmers as possible, he wouldn’t have taken the lacrosse ball to the face.

But still, the game was awesome, Stiles even scored a goal – fairly, he might add at Scott’s whining. But he figured, if Scott could use his werewolf powers to his advantage, then why couldn’t Stiles? Who may or may not have started muttering naughty things about Allison under his breath as Scott got that glazed over look in his eyes.

It was totally fair. Unlike the Jackson situation. Not that he cared, at all – Jackson deserved to be taken down a peg or two, and he had enough on his plate, thank you very much. He wasn’t Mr. Black and White morals like Scott.

Well he wasn’t until he felt sick to his stomach as he watched Greenburg and his buddies loudly exclaim their delight as Coach yelled at Jackson over his somewhat-less-than-stellar performance. For a second Stiles thought Jackson looked crushed, but then that arrogant smirk returned.

He shrugged “And how many games have we won because of me? I'm hardly concerned about having one off game.” Taking one last sneering look around the locker room, he swept out with his usual amount of theatrics. Stiles shook his head as he ran after the asshole, because even if couldn't stand the guy, Jackson deserved (did he?) to know that Greenburg had tampered with his gear.

“Oi! Jackson wait up”

The other boy didn't even slow his easy swagger. Stiles was really starting to reconsider his decision to tell Jackson anything

“For God's sake Jackson!” Stiles panted as he managed to get alongside the boy.

“If only if you were a little fitter aye, what do you want Stilinski?”

"Did anyone ever tell you how charming you are? No really, you sure know how to sweep a guy off his feet. . .”

Jackson stopped and turned to face Stiles, leaning in entirely too close for Stiles' comfort. “Would you like me to sweep you off your feet?” He asked, blue eyes set in a soul piercing stare.

“Jesus Jackson, what’s wrong with you?” Stiles blurted out. Alook caught somewhere between hurt and confusion flashed across Jackson's face before he managed to drop his normally haughty mask back in place.

“What’s wrong with you Stilinski?! Even McCall managed to get laid! But you’re just busy following Danny around like a lost puppy! As if you've got a snowball's shot in hell with someone like Danny." He sneered. "Talk about delusional."

'Wow. Thanks Jackson! Enjoy the back stabbing from Greenburg!' Stiles thought as he fumed, turning to leave. He barely managed to get himself oriented towards his Jeep before he felt a surprisingly cool hand wrap around his bicep.

Stiles tensed instinctively, grinding out a low: “Let go.”

“Not until you tell me what's going on with McCall.”

Stiles froze for a second, seriously considering the ramifications of punching Jackson square in the face.

“I said: What. Is. Up. With McCall?” Jackson demanded, full stop.

Stiles shook the other's hand off and turned around.“Well, he brought a new video game on Sunday, still hasn’t watched Star Wars with me, and decided to ask Allison to go see the new Transformers movie with him this weekend, despite promising me we would go opening night. Since when have you taken such an interest in Scott’s life? Maybe try adding him on facebook? At least then you could stop accosting me.”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Stilinski."

“Well, you would know all about stupid, wouldn't you? Tell me, how much did your Chem grade suffer from that test?” Stiles snapped. There was nothing he hated more than being called stupid.

It was a low blow, and Jackson actually winced before shaking his head “I know something is going on, and I’m going to figure it out eventually. And when I do...” he left the threat hanging menacingly before he stalked off towards his car.

**

Detention was torture. He and Jackson sat on opposite sides of the room, he scribbled over his notebook, Mr Harris tapped away on his computer. Finally, after a small eternity, they were allowed to go. Stiles waited for Jackson to gather his stuff before racing out of the classroom, where they bumped into Greenburg and co.

“The happy couple!” Greenburg crowed.

Jackson scoffed “Whatever, I’ve got places to be.”

“Hey! Wait up a second, Jackson, didn’t Danny tell you?”

Jackson paused before sparing a glance over his shoulder, huffing impatiently. “Tell me what?”

“We’re all going bowling in town.”

“No way, me and Danny are meeting out back for some practice.”

“Ha! Yeah you need it! But Danny was all like nah, can’t be bothered with that shit, he just want to have a good time, aye guys?"

One of Greenburg crew, a loser Jackson never bother to learn the name of, rolled his eyes: “Actually Danny said it'd be a good way for us cool off. God, Greenburg” Greenburg punched him in the shoulder as Jackson smirked, but as the jock turned around to head to his car, he missed the high five between them. 

Stiles didn’t though.

**  
Greenburg slapped a hand on Jacksons back at the bowling alley “Dude, I forgot my wallet, mind paying for me” 

Jackson tried to brush off his hand as he rolled his eyes “As if” the blonde snorted causing Greenburg to tighten his grip on Jacksons shoulder and the jock flinched under his pressure, trying to pull away but Greenburg wasn’t about to allow that.

“Come on dude, it’s not like you’re not loaded” 

The gorgeous brunette behind the counter fake a smile “Are you paying for one or two Sir?” she asked too sweetly and Greenburg smiled as a blush crept up Jacksons face “He’s paying for us all” he answered for the jock, gesturing at the 5 school mates behind them. 

Golden Boy glared at him before handing over his credit card to the girl behind the counter “Whatever, we can’t all be rich and hot can we Greenburg” he gave Greenburg his trademark smirk and Greenburg couldn’t wait to wipe it off his stupid face.

“Where’s Danny?” Jackson asked, scanning the alley for signs of his only real friend.

“Oh, he had to go, personal emergency or something” some little loser told him and Jackson grabbed him by his shirt “what sort of emergency?”

“He said it was personal and that he needed space, chill dude”

Jackson let the little loser, Colin was his name, go and pursed his lips together. He was torn between seeing what was up with Danny and respecting his need for space. The most important part of their friendship was the understanding that sometimes friends need to give friends space. 

“Oi Whittemore, get over here and show these pansys how to win” Travis shouted out

Jackson grinned as he waltz into the middle of the group, it was good to be him.  
**

Danny sighed. He almost wished he had misplaced his bloody phone. He figured detention would be over by now, but Jackson still hadn’t turned up. Despite the fact Jackson was a massive asshole, he wasn’t one to blow off plans, especially plans he had made. In fact Jackson was the type to not only be early, but also the best prepared.

Putting down the dumb bells, he decided he’d look in on detention, figuring there was a better than fair chance Stiles had managed to get them into even more trouble, but got a surprise when Jackson wasn’t there. Nor was Jackson's car in the parking lot. Danny figured something important must of popped up and at the end of the day, he’d gotten a bit more training in, so it wasn’t like it was a lost cause.

It wasn't until he got home and logged into facebook that he was confronted with non-stop photos of Jackson at the bowling alley. He couldn't deny that he felt hurt and a little betrayed. Couldn’t Jackson have called? Or dropped by the gym and invited Danny along? Jackson called Danny his best friend, but sometimes…

An alert popped up with a message from Stiles but Danny shut down the computer without looking at it because he really couldn't handle more questioning on Stiles attractiveness to gays guys when he knew too much and went to bed.

**

Jackson drove past Danny’s house, and contemplated popping in, but it was late, and if Colin was right and Danny had had to leave the bowling alley for personal reasons, then maybe he should give him some space. He didn’t want to seem overbearing.

He’d see Danny at school the next day anyway, and they could discuss it then. Jackson swore to God, if Danny's boyfriend was being a douche again, he could not be held responsible for his actions. He floored the car and roared aimlessly around the stupid small town of Beacon Hills, it wasn’t like his parents would miss him. They were over in Europe on a holiday for the last week and a bit, leaving Jackson alone to do his own thing.

He saw Stiles walking down the street, and before he realised what he was doing, he’d pulled a U-Turn and crept along beside the other teen, waiting to catch his attention. Stiles eyed him suspiciously and tried walking faster, which was incredibly funny to Jackson. Did Stilinski honestly think he could out run a Porsche? He killed the engine and hopped out.

Stiles raised his eyebrow: “You stalking me now?”

Laughing, Jackson made an exaggerated show of stretching his arms “I just needed to get some space.”

"Yeah, can’t be much room in there with your ego.”

“It’s not ego if it’s a fact, Stilinski.” Jackson retorted. “I am the best; that's a fact.”

Stiles shoved his hands into his pockets and tried to look as disinterested as possible. “As exciting as this has been, and boy, was it ever, I’m gonna go.”

Jackson tapped his foot as Stiles walked away, before jogging to catch up with him. Stiles glanced at the other teen before heaving an irritated sigh.

Jackson shook his head as he scoffed “Like you have anywhere better to be loser, you should come watch a movie at mine”

Wait. No, what? Hold on. Stiles brain actually melted. He, Stiles Stilinski, was speechless as he stared, open mouthed, at the blonde asshole in front of him. Jackson, for his part, did his level best to feign disinterest in the shorter boy's answer.

“Whatever. It doesn’t even matter. You mentioned Star Wars earlier, and I’ve always wanted to see it.”

“Them. There's 3. Well 6. But the last 3, which are technically the first 3, don’t really count. So yeah."

Jackson managed to look confused, pissed off, disinterested, cold, and hopeful – which was a broader emotional spectrum than Stiles even knew he possessed.

“Anyway, you want to watch a movie, or what? My parents aren’t home, and I have a TV bigger than you can dream up.You'll probably squirt in your pants" And there was his trade mark smirk at the end of the sentence.

Stiles bit his tongue as he weighed up the pros and cons. Free food, massive TV, and Scott had ditched him. Again. Why not - maybe he could dig up some dirt on the douche in front of him.

“Fine. But you’re dropping me home, I’m not walking.”

“Whatever, loser.” Jackson dismissed, but gestured at Stiles to get in the car regardless.

**

The Whittemore's house was massive, ridiculously expensive, and shiny. Stiles said house, because it lacked the warmth of a home. There were no family pictures, no mess, none of Jackson's old Kindergarten art work tacked to the fridge like at Stiles own home. It was like no one actually lived in the house. Even in Jackson's room, there was nothing to suggest an actual human being inhabited it aside from a few lacrosse and swim trophies.

The coldest bit of the frigid house (which was funny given it’s ample air con, and under floor heating) was when Stiles snuck into Jackson's parents room as Jackson showered.

It was less bland. There was a photo of Mr and Mrs Whittemore on their wedding day, another couple of them on their holidays. But of the 5 photos that hung in the room, none featured Jackson. His dad’s room was over flowing with Stiles infected crap. Photos upon photos, bad crayon drawings, awards, Stiles old teddy that the Sheriff wouldn’t bin.

“Stiles! You better not be nicking anything!” Jackson shouted from down the hall. Sighing, Stiles made his way back.

“Seriously asshole?”

“I was joking, lightening up.” Jackson muttered as Stiles ran his eyes over him. Jackson was well dressed, but it made no sense to Stiles. It wasn’t like he was going on a date. He was just watching a movie with Stiles and... Wow. What was that awesome, heavenly, definitely masculine smell that was making Stiles' mouth flood with saliva? Oh dear God. That was definitely Jackson's aftershave. Holy shit.

“What you doing after this?” Stiles asked, curiosity getting the better of him. Because, seriously, no way was that frankly awesome smell for him. Not to mention the way his jeans were hugging his perfectly delic- yeah, okay. Definitely not following that train of thought anywhere!

“Dropping you home, and then sleeping dumbass.” Jackson answered and, okay no. Stiles definitely didn’t believe that. No one would go through the effort Jackson did to go to sleep. But then Stiles heard the opening music, and everything else stopped nattering, because seriously? Star Wars, okay? So he jumped on Jackson's bed (and why would one person need such a monstrous mattress, anyways? Then again, if one were to... Seriously, what was with Stiles brain tonight?) and watched the movie on the flat screen mounted on the far wall.

He noticed Jackson had edged almost too close half way though. The jock resting his head on Stiles' shoulder as he complained about plot holes, stupid facts, and bad costumes.

“Shut up!" Stiles finally snapped.

“How are you going to make me Stiles?” Jackson asked in a teasing tone, looking up at him with those damn light blue eyes. Running his hand over his face. Stiles groaned. He really wasn’t made for these sorts of situations, and his brain had already more than proved he was capable of getting himself in a lot of trouble. Lots of trouble without including sexy, sweaty, awesome trouble. Which would be an improvement over supernatural trouble.

Except. Except he knew Jackson was just being a prick. And yet... he couldn’t help but hope. But right as he started to lean forward, already imagining what the Lacrosse Captain's lips would feel like pressed to his, what the Golden Boy would taste like, the guy in question rolled away with an eye roll and a snort.

“Don’t have a heart attack, I was just joking. I mean I know I’m everyone’s type, but I have a bit more class than you.”

 

Jackson regretted it as soon as he said it, but it was already too late. Stiles was off the bed and down the stairs.

 

“Stiles! For crying out loud, stop!”

 

The little spaz didn’t though, and Jackson had to run to catch him. “I have to give you a ride home, dumbass, or did you forget?"

 

He wasn’t sure where he thought the conversation would go from there, but turns out it pretty much ended as Stiles punched him hard enough to send him stumbling back onto the hood of his Porsche, leaving Jackson to try and stem the flow of blood from his nose alone.

**  
Jackson's day started badly. 

First off, Stiles had broken his nose, and when he landed against his car, it had put a massive dent in the hood. Then Danny wouldn’t even look at him, he caught Lydia hitting on Scott in the lunch room, and during his resit for the chemistry test, Greenburg waltzed in.

“Sorry man.” Greenburg said, putting his hands in the air “I didn’t know you were in here.”

“Just get lost.” Jackson ordered, but the stupid idiot just plonked himself down on the desk next to his.

“So weird how you fail your midterm, isn’t it? I mean, normally you’re the one the teachers love to hold up as the example of excellence."

And it was true. Jackson was excellence personified. He had to be prefect to fit into his parents prefect world. He knew what happened to adopted kids that weren’t good enough, and to be honest... it ate away at him. He could never tell what his parents thought of him, they were always too busy in their work, or their own lives to attend stupid high school games, or award ceremonies (“One day sweetie, when you're older you’ll realise why we had more important things to do. Your friends will be there though, like Lyn and Darryl.” “Lydia and Danny mum. Their names are Lydia and Danny. You’ve known since I was in Kindergarten.” “Yes, well do they bring $4 million dollars to the economy honey? You can’t expect me to remember all their names.”)

 

The midterm result had floored him because he never got anything less than an A, and Greenburg was over the moon that Jackson had been so wrapped up in the mark in red pen, that he hadn’t noticed that the exam wasn’t the same one he’d submitted. Not that Jackson would have been able to prove it, because Mr Harris kept them locked away but still.

“Could you get lost Greenburg, I’m kind of busy here”

Greenburg shrugged and leaned over the trouble to stare at the piece of paper in front of Jackson.

“Geez dude” Greenburg winced “You really put that as your answer to number 35 bro” and he shot Jackson a questioning look. Jackson huffed and waved him before his eyes zeroed in on number 35. 

What in god name was Greenburg on about? His answer was prefect. He felt a weight on his shoulder as Greenburg peered over his shoulder again and he was about to threaten the idiot when he felt his heart shrink back.

“Whittemore!, Greenburg! Care to explain yourselves?” Mr Harris snapped. Greenburg flinched back as Jackson swung around his chair. Opening his mouth to explain he shut it as Mr Harris glared at them.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry! not an update just a message for those who are interested in this story (hopefully at least one person), no its not abandoned, just my laptop is getting repaired and then I'll need to rewrite this chapter :/ but it is coming!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omg. An update but I'm so nervous about posting this. It is unbeta'd at this stage. So I hope you enjoy!

Danny:

Danny crashed on the couch with a text box and flopped it open to the middle before dumping it beside him. Flipping open his phone he saw a message from Lydia, she wanted him to come hang out and met her new boyfriend- the Jackson replacement.

To be honest, it had surprised Danny that she'd taken so long to find a new toy. . . sorry, guy to claim but then again Lydia was a smart woman and she knew just how long to play the grief card and the importance of not being seen to move on to quickly. High School was all about acting correctly, hanging with the right people and being seen doing the in thing.

Speaking of Jackson, Danny hadn't really seen or spoken to him since the bowling incident and it was making Danny's life a nightmare. His former best friend wasn't the same guy, but when Danny had tried to approach the former jock he'd been spurned and it wasn't like he deserved it, it hadn't been Danny who'd ditched him to go bowling – it had been the other way around and Danny deserved to be annoyed.

Yet, he still couldn't buy into the Jackson cheating story, and not cheating off Greenberg. Greenberg who had put a fork in the power socket at school while Jackson sweated his ass off to be prefect at everything.

Danny flicked though the contacts in his phone and hovered his finger over the name “Mr Prefect” before he let his phone drop on top of the abandoned study book and rolled his head back in frustration.

Stiles:

Only good things were happening in Stiles life, even with werewolf drama's and a certain sulky Hale stalking them, well stalking Scott and – okay so he had let his mind wander over that thought of why Derek might be stalking Scott but it was too weird because Scott was his brother, it'd just been a mistake that they'd come out of different vagina's.

Wow. That was also awkward and he really did a filter. Or something.

But no, life was amazing. Scott was captain of the team, Stiles was on team. They'd won a game and Scott hadn't ripped anyone's throat out. It'd just be a lot better if Jackson was still Co-Captain and playing with the game, rather than moping in dark corners because that role in the drama that was Stiles teenage life was taken by Derek and Derek did it better.

But Stiles didn't care about the asshole that was Jackson Whittemore. At study he'd only sat at the same table because it was the only free chair and not because (ex) Golden boy looked pathetic by himself. Jackson had done a stand up job of ignoring him, only rolling his eyes once when Stiles accidentally sent his assignment flying though the air.

So now Stiles was making his way back to his baby, the blue jeep of course, and homeward bound when a hand grabbed him and he tensed because surely no alpha werewolf would rip him to pieces in a school hall.

But it wasn't an alpha, it was a jerk. A blonde jerk.

“What's your fucking problem” Stiles said a bit to loud and Jackson flinched back and the jocks facial expression froze.  
“You left part of assignment behind in study” he said coldly as he shoved the piece of paper towards Stiles just as Greenberg waltzed by with a group from the team. Greenberg paused for a second and bro nodded at Stiles.

“Heads up S-dawg, you might want to be more careful who you're seen with in public”

Faking a smile he shot back “You're right burg'er, that's why I try not to be seen near you” and he felt a burst of pride as Jackson chuckled as Greenberg went red and one of his minions sniggered behind,

“You might need some water for that burn” Jackson commented off handily.

Greenburg's face when ice cold and if stares could kill then Stiles would be sipping orange juice at Jackson's funeral. “Maybe when you find a ladder you could bring me some up from that well you're stuck in” Greenberg snipped “At least I'm not the school leper”

Jackson balled his fists together and Greenberg just let his eyes roll and Stiles really didn't want a fight – by association with a fight Mr Harris would probably give him detention and he'd miss practice and his space on the team and no thank you.

“Look as fun as this has been, I think we can all agree that Jackson here is too pretty to be a leper, asshole yes, leper no, now that we've agree we need to get going” and with that he grabbed Jackson's arm and pulled, and to his surprise Jackson allow him to lead him away.


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles:  
Jackson followed Stiles in brooding silence as they made their way along the back paths to the school carpark, which was causing Stiles to fidget because he was not used to prolong silences nor walking with Jock, or possibly “ex” Jock or . . . possibly an “XXX” Jock – hmmm Jackson would definitely make a lot of money in the porn business if sports didn't work out.

He made a mental note that when he got home he definitely needed to take his ADHD meds as he was broken from his musing by a sigh behind him.

“Can you stop fidgeting, your giving me a headache” and despite the mocking Stile could almost hear Jackson's trademark smirk behind him and sure enough, as he turned around it was planted right across his prefect. . . stupid face.

Tripping over his feet, he was caught by Jackson who stood him back up on two feet and scoffed 

“Livings just too difficult for you aye Stiles” but it was unusually warm hearted for the cold blooded jerk that was Jackson Whittemore.

“You think I'm pretty” he said, raising a prefect eyebrow at him causing Stiles tongue to tie itself up in a knot and he felt his stomach twist.

“Of course you're pretty, you're like a Greek god, you know” and then it hit him, and he squinted “you're awfully pale at the moment though, are you okay?”

Jackson pursed his lips together and shuffled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It's nothing, I'm fine”

Stiles bit his top lip before cocking his head. “Umm, I don't think so. Jackson what's wrong?”

Jackson huffed and pushed passed him and Stiles pondered what was happening that he even cared about the stupid former Golden Boy of Beacon Hills High. After all Scott was still being hunted by Derek and some brutal Alpha Werewolf and Lydia was single – single!, and he loved Lydia.

Really he did.

Or at least that what he told himself as he chased down the path and latched onto Jackson's arm before a scratch mark on Jackson's neck drew his attention and he pulled roughly on Jackson's tee.

“Hey you spaz, what in gods name are you doing, do you know how much this shirt is worth”

Stiles ignored him and ran his finger along the scratch causing Jackson to shudder.

“Oi, dickhead, how did you get this?”

Jackson rolled him off and indignantly pulled up his shirt and glanced around the empty school, he opened his mouth as if to speak before he stormed off as Stiles threw his hands in the air because he didn't care. 

Not at all.

Greenberg:

Greenberg sat in his car, ignoring his phone as it vibrated as texts and calls flew in. Breathing out slowly, he loosened his tightened grip of the steering wheel as he let his eyes roam the outside world. Things where going well, Jackson had been over thrown by none other than himself. 

Lowly Greenberg, the loser that was mocked by everyone had toppled the king himself – it was enough that Jackson was almost as low as he could go and Greenberg should be over the moon and let it be but there was one nagging problem.

A certain spaz who went the name of Stiles. 

Now technically he shouldn't be overly concerned because Stiles was more of a no body than himself, however Stiles was still Scott's best friend and now that Scott was captain of the lacrosse team meant he had one of three options. He could ignore Stiles and Jackson's budding friendship, destroy it or end Stiles and Scott's friendship. 

He let go of the steering wheel and sunk back into the drivers seat as he pondered his next move and shoved the keys into the ignition.

Stiles:

After being ditched again by his best friend for Allison Stiles was cruising the back roads when he noticed the black porsche parked down at a small park and he did contemplate driving pass before giving in and pulling over. 

Getting out of the Jeep he bounded down the short steep path to where Jackson was swinging balls at a small cup sitting about head height in the trees, Jackson hadn't yet noticed him but he had noticed the bottles of booze lying on the ground next to him and the drunk swag in his swings.

Biting his bottom lip Stiles pondered cutting his losses and getting back into the Jeep and driving off, but his conscience wouldn't let him. What if the dickhead got into his car and wrapped it around a tree?

 

“Oi loser” he called out at Jackson's back “what in gods name are you doing?”

Jackson staggered around and in a rare moment of disgracefulness managed to fall over into a muddy puddle causing Stiles to snigger while he attempted to ignore how attractive mud soaked Jackson was. 

“Right, get up, I'm taking you home”

“Hmmpf I canna get myself home” Jackson retorted, pushing himself out of the mud and wiping his mud soaked face with an even more mud caked hand which just made matters worse. Stiles dipped his head into his hand and sighed painfully.

“God your pathetic, you know that aye”  
“Mm not” 

Rolling his eyes, Stiles offered a hand and helped Jackson up and surveyed the damage. The former Golden Boy was now brown, his white designer jacket and blue jeans would probably never be the same again, which caused Stiles more headaches that it was worth because how the hell was he going to get him home?

The dirty fallen god before him certainly wasn't get in the jeep like that but then again, Jackson would murder him if he put him in the Porsche and really he couldn't leave the Porsche here by itself – someone who nick it or nick the wheels or set it on fire.

Hold up, why did he care about Jackson's car? A weight hit him as Jackson leaned against him, resting his head on Stiles shoulder, he glanced over at the muddy drunk face next to him.

“You're making me dirty” he complained and Jackson smirked as he raised an eyebrow at him “I can make you really dirty if you like” he almost purred causing unwanted growth in Stiles pants.

A ringtone broke the moment, looking over he saw Jackson frown at his phone with sad blue eyes. The caller I.D revealed it was Danny before Jackson struggled to put the phone back into his pocket.

“Aren't you going to answer that?”

“What's it to you” Jackson retorted complete with attitude and Stiles rolled him off his shoulders so he could face the other boy.

“I want to know why you're ignoring the only person who cares about you” Stiles winced at how harsh the words sounded as they came out and Jackson stumbled backwards before tumbling to the ground. He looked at the ground and muttered “Of course you don't care, your probably just here because it'll make a good story for everyone tomorrow at school”  
Crouching down Stiles bit his bottom lip as he tried to plan his next move, this was a very delicate situation and he didn't want to make another mistake. 

“Look, I do care but so does Danny. . .”

“I don't need Danny”

“Now you're talking crap, Danny's your best friend” Stiles answered, reaching out to cup Jacksons chin to turn his face to look at him but Jackson shook his head out of Stiles hand.

“I don't have friends. Only people who want to be like me and admire what I achieve. No body actually cares about me, I'm just a human trophy – ta da it's Jackson Fucking Whittemore – he'll win it for us, he'll be the prefect son for us, prefect student. Fuck them, fuck them all” 

Stiles let out a deep breath and put his hand across to gently touch Jackson's shoulder.

“Hey, it's not like that” he tried to reason, ignoring the tears in Jackson's eyes.

“It is, are you fucking blind or just retarded? Have you not seen the way everybody has been so quick to ditch me now I'm useless to them? But your good old mate McCall, isn't he just the bee's knees. Tell me what drugs is he on” and he huffed out a humourless laugh. 

“You'd be a lot easier to like if you weren't always such a self absorbed ass-hole. Scott's not on drugs and he's not your enemy okay? Now you're dirty and wet so I'm gonna take you home and get you cleaned up”

Jackson rolled over and stared at the sky “If McCall isn't on drugs then how come he's so good and that fucking creep Derek keeps hanging around huh? Who the hell do you think did this?” and he pointed to the scratch on his neck.

Scrambling over the drunken mess that was Jackson Stiles peered at the scratch on the back of his neck.

“Derek did this to you?”

“Hmmpf” came Jackson's distracted reply. 

Stiles was worried because he knew from casual glances that Jackson's scratch was newish, and that recently Derek was poisoned by Allison's crazy aunt (who would probably love to kill Allison's boyfriend in a heartbeat if she got a chance). He felt Jackson reposition him slightly as he pondered over the implications, what if Jackson was also poisoned – he couldn't cut off Jackson's neck! 

He shuddered as some wet encompassed his dick and he glanced down in shock and almost died from a heart attack because Jackson was sucking his dick! Covered in mud and lying in the grass in a public park under the moonlight and almost shot all over his face.

He was in heaven but oh god, did he have to stop it? Yes of course he did, they couldn't do this in a park. Not in a park monitored by his dads police department so he pulled away but Jackson's powerful arms gripped his hips.

“Jackson stop”

And sadly he did, and he fell back in the grass and stared up at the sky away from Stiles.  
“See, I knew you didn't want me either”

Stiles leaned over, trying to make eye contact but Jackson just rolled his head to the side “Jackson, listen you're drunk and dirty and worn out. You need to get some sleep and refresh yourself and if you still want to tomorrow then we can okay? Just not now okay?” 

His first every blowjob and he was turning it down? Good lord his penis hated him with a passion right now. He dragged Jackson up off the ground and led him to the jeep. Which was less than fun given that despite Jackson's slightly smaller frame, he was all muscle and drunk as anything which meant keeping him from either collapsing or wandering off to explore the woods was difficult. Plus Jackson kept trying to remove Stiles tee shirt – which made him uncomfortable – at least, Stiles assumed he was trying to take off his shirt, mostly it was just Jackson's hands clawing at him.

His dads was going to kill him when he saw the washing.

He couldn't be bothered getting Jackson into the front seat so he dumped him across the backseat and drove down the back roads to the flashiest house on the most fancy street in the most over-priced suburb of Beacon Hills. He flung open the back door on the jeep and Jackson moaned as his head dropped from its resting place against the inside of the door.

Leading him across the front yard – as in actually across it because Jackson was dragging him down, he managed somehow to get the drunk to the front. Now it was Stiles plan just to dump him in the hall way, go home and forget it ever happened and hoped Jackson never called him out on calling him pretty, or getting hard in front of him, or anything potential embarrassing. 

Life in Beacon Hills aye.

Jackson managed to look up at him with those sad blue eyes and asked if Stiles would stay the night, before vomiting in the rose garden.

“That'll really please your mum, and her roses”

“Not my mum” Jackson mumbled as he hung off Stiles slowly dying arm.

“They're someone else roses?” Stiles asked, not really interested.

“Someone's else son” 

Raising an eyebrow, the question on Stiles tongue was left hanging when Jackson puked again.

30 minutes later and Jackson was in his bed, well, on top of it with a duvet thrown across him and Stiles had left a glass of water and two aspirin next to it before he glanced around the room which was completely empty. No trophies were in sight, no pictures, no awards. Just bare walls, bare desk tops. Stiles open the cupboard and it was disgusting – all of Jackson's clothes hung in groups, from hooks. Nothing was messy, unorganised like him and Scott. Nothing had anything human about it, it was almost like something out of a Sci-fi film.

He sat on the edge of Jackson's bed and stare at the boy under the moonlight and wondered if he needed someone like Stiles in his life, to add a bit of spice and bajazz. Except Stiles already had his hands full with a teenage werewolf for a best friend who was in love with a hunter, a creepy werewolf that might or might be evil or good and keeping his dad out of the way of the supernatual crap.

Still, he had already decided, as he got off the bed and walked back to the Jeep that he was going to at least find out if Jackson needed treatment for the scratch on his neck.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This story is getting close to wrapping up, just need a ounce more angst :P The question is will Stiles and Jackson get together or are the destined to be "might of been" - can stupid boys just say what need to be said or are they destined to be might of been's and keep ending up on the wrong page? 
> 
> Can Jackson become cool again? 
> 
> No direct Danny this chapter sadly, but he'll be back to playing a bigger part in the next chapter.
> 
> Enjoy, thank you for all your nice comments!

Stiles grimaced as he was dragged without warning into an empty room, swinging around he punched out at his attack smacking whoever it was in the face.

“You little ….” Jackson started, cutting himself off to rub a hand over his bruised cheek.

“Jackson, what in the name of, why are you attacking me!”

“I'm attacking you! You're the one who just decked me” Jackson sounded a mix of hurt, offended and whiny which was almost entirely unfair given he'd been the one pulled out of the hallway.

Come to speak of it, why did Scott not notice – what was the point in having a werewolf best friend? Scott certainly had more brownie points to make up and … and … and was Jackson shuffling nervously on his feet??

“Look about last night” Jackson started, rubbing the back of his neck which instantly reminded Stiles that he had to check with Derek or Deaton or someone about the risks and oh wait, he was just staring at Jackson who was just staring at him and was it unusually hot in this room – the school really needs better air con.

What could Stiles say about last night, that Jackson had given him a sort of blowjob and despite the fact Stiles had spent years hating the asshole and putting salt in his water bottle at practice and egging his car that all of a sudden he had a crush on the dick. Not Jackson's actual dick, he meant Jackson was a dick. Was he blushing in front of Jackson? Jackson must think he was more a loser than he already thought. 

This was all Greenberg's fault and also – Stiles was finally going to sit Jackson down and explain everything that had happened and explain that it wasn't Scott becoming a werewolf that ruined his prefect life but Greenberg and also, so going to make Danny and Jackson kiss and make up. Was it really wrong to get excited at the thought of Jackson and Danny kissing because Stiles was just a typical horny teenager and if Jackson was bi...

“Um, what about last night” was all Stiles brain could come up with because a lot happened the night before and Stiles didn't want to be like 'oh yeah, can we go back to you sucking my cock' and Jackson be like ' I was talking about Derek clawing my next'

What he wasn't expecting was the Jock crestfallen look as he dipped his head and push passed Stiles and he was left standing alone in the classroom. For the love of unholy cows in Russia, what had happened to the plan! Stiles always had such good plans that never went to plan. 

Perhaps the whiteboard would listen to him.  
**  
When Stiles bumped into Jackson later he was expecting a cool response from the former god of Beacon Hills High and he'd being thinking about how to word his explanation– actually it'd been driving him crazy to the point Scott had to keeps punching him in the arm to bring him back down to earth and Scott's punch pack some punch and really werewolves shouldn't be punching humans. It was unfair and inhuman. 

What he wasn't expecting was to be dragged to the side again and have a brown plastic pill container shoved under his nose.

“Do you know what this is” Jackson hissed at him, shaking the container and Stiles just shook his head in confusion as he tried to figure out how so much crazy stuff could happen in his life. There should most definitely be a limit to the amount of weird shit that was allowed to happen in someone's life. 

“Antibiotics I got from the doctor, its for aconite poisoning - which I'm pretty sure I got from Derek when he bloody clawed the back of my neck while looking out for your little bum boy McCall. You know what aconite poisoning is aye Stilinski” 

Stiles mumbled quietly to himself because yes he knew what aconite poisoning is and yes, he'd meant to speak someone sooner but what did Jackson expect – Stiles couldn't tell him the truth because he'd never believe it anyway and it was safer if Jackson didn't know about werewolves.   
Although perhaps if he told Jackson then he'd back the hell off and stop trying to become like Scott, after all who in their right mind would want to become a werewolf. . . Also Jacksons breath was warm on his neck and it tickled him just right.

His moment was shattered though as Jackson shoved him against the wall and glared darkly at Stiles as he stormed off down the school corridor.

Shit. How in sweet baby Jesus name was he meant to fix this?

As Jackson stormed down the corridor he felt rage boil under his skin, he wasn't sure what he expected from Stiles, and yes it probably was too much given the fact that the spaz probably (quite rightly) hated his guts.

It wasn't Stiles fault that Jackson hadn't been overly open in his true feelings but then again Stiles had never noticed him, always busy watching Lydia the goddess who ruled the school with a twitch of her perfectly manicured hand and a twirl of her strawberry blonde hair.

Jackson had never been very good at opening up, when you open up and tell people how you're really feeling that's when you lose everything you've worked towards. Too many years, too much sweat and blood pumped into being the very best that Beacon Hills had to lose it by proving to the world that you were the hopelessly insecure boy that was scared of his own shadow.

He jumped slightly as someone tapped his shoulder and he felt instant relief to see it was some brown hair girl who was standing coyly to the side. She was hot, with piercing blue eyes and subtle purple lipstick on and she ran a hand smoothly down Jacksons arm and he remembered her as Brittany. She was a cheerleader, as Lydia once put it – all ass and no class, but she was one of the smarter and less slutter cheerleaders even if she did hang out with Greenburg's crew.

“So, Jackson I hear you're likely totes still single” and she fluttered her eyes at him and he arched an eyebrow at her, still caught some what off guard by her question.

“Yeah, well things have been pretty full on right now” he replied awkwardly because he wasn't a really a people person. That was why he had Danny or Lydia that he could stand next to, smile and wave. Not to mention Brittany was typically the type of person that he and Lydia would mock in private. Good lord, that slang and that voice. . . but still she was hot and she was talking to him. She was actually the first person in like forever to talk to him casually.

“I know, I heard about the how getting kicked off the team thing, that was totes not cool and so OTT ya know” she flipped her hair casually with her hand which was completely planned and not casual in the least.

He really hated the word totes, especially from whiny cheerleaders. Perhaps it wouldn't sound so bad coming from Stiles mouth, the words slipping between Stiles lips.

Anyways I heard Lydia dropped you like a rock and I totes said to my girls that like I so so so should ask you out next because look at ya! ya a such a amazeball catch ANNNND we all just know that McCall is totes gonna choke in the final and the coach is gonna so be over ya like a rash after rolling around in poison ivy, ya know”

Jackson realized she'd stopped waffling on and smiled at her before he just shrugged “maybe, here my number” as he ripped a piece of paper out of his note book. After all Lydia didn't need his social status any more (what social status – McCall had ripped that from him) and Stiles didn't want him which was again because of McCall and Stiles knew exactly what was going on with McCall but wouldn't tell him.

Fucking McCall had everything he should have and he hadn't even worked half as hard as he had, he hadn't had to prove himself to everyone. He'd just waltzed in and everybody loved him.

Everybody wanted him.

So, screw it. Jackson didn't care if Brittany was probably only using him to piss off Lydia or whatever reason she had, it was nice to have someone who wanted him. Granted, he wasn't going to text her quite yet, he didn't want to seem desperate… Actually screw it as he pulled out his phone and typed out a quick message to Brittany asking her to met him for lunch the next morning to which she pretty much replied straight away.   
**  
That night was particular hard to get to sleep as Jackson lay on top of the sheets of the double bed in just his black boxers and just stared at the ceiling and let his thoughts whirl around his head. It was a common occurrence for Jackson to recount all the ways he had to be better, be more worthwhile to everyone and yet he wasn't. 

He didn't really matter to Lydia, Danny or even Stiles as his hand caress the spot where Stiles had sit yesterday

As he sighed as he pushed himself off the bed and made his way down to where his father keep the alcohol and wandered out in the cool breeze to lounge by the pool under the dark night sky, the joys of being rich meant no neighbours peering over the fence and alerting anyone to the half naked guy with a bottle of whisky lying on the cold concrete.  
**  
The following morning Jackson walked into school wearing dark black sunglasses to hide his tired and hung over eyes as he attempted to push his way though the loud crowd of his loser school mates and he wished for the days when he could walk down the middle of the corridor and the freaks would move out of his way like ants. 

An arm wrapped around him and he had to hide his disappointment that it was Brittany and not Stiles who was busy waffling in McCall's ear as the idiot drooled over Allison who was standing next to Lydia's locker as Lydia handed out advice to her new 2 In Command.

“Earth to Jackson” Brittany cooed in his ear as she swung off his shoulder and he glanced down at her and her massive tits that were almost falling out of her low cut top which were even more emphasized when she tilted her head back and winked at him and he felt a twinge of jealously as Stiles bounced around Scott and Lydia so he did what he did whenever he felt insecure – he put on a show.

He grabbed Brittany and embraced her in the deep kiss, enough to get the corridor cheering and some hack clapped him on the back.

“You still have it bro” and Jackson just raised an 'are you serious man' eyebrow that cause the loser to scramble away as a smirk fell into place. 

It wasn't where Jackson wanted to be, granted – but it was as good as it'd ever been.

Brittany smiled into his neck and asked if she'd meet him at his car after school to which he grunted a yes as he eyes betrayed him and settled on Stiles carefree smile. He dipped his head and captured her lips with his.

**  
Scott rolled his eyes as he left the coach's office, yes Danny was hot and yes Scott was happy to admit it but that didn't mean Scott wanted Danny and that wasn't why he was nervous about playing the final. Life was so much easier before he became a werewolf and he was just a nobody with bad asthma sitting on the bench with Stiles with their backs against the world. 

He sniffed the air to catch Allison's scent when he bumped into Greenberg.

"Sorry man" Scott offered, feeling guilty at zoning out.

"Oh, it nothing dude, you look like your on a mission bro"

Scott smiled his puppy dog smile and nodded "Yeah, just looking out for Allison"

Greenberg frowned and cocked his head "Allison? I thought things were over with you and Allison"

Confusion swept Scott's face as he laughed awkwardly "why would you think that man?

Shuffling on his feet, Greenberg looked uneasy as he rambled "It's probably not my place to say, it's just Stiles was saying the other day what a slut she is and other stuff and... well.... I just thought since you guys are so close that ... look I shouldn't of said anything, I probably misunderstood. Maybe Stiles meant she should dye her hair. . . although dying her head a in a pool of blood is kind of weird but just pretend like this conversation didn't happen".

Like a rat crawling into the sewers, Greenberg disappeared into the crowd - pleased at his ability to act like a rambling loser and it was a shame that Scott let his anger override his werewolf ability to detect lies.


End file.
